


Sleight of Hand

by accol



Category: Leverage, Supernatural, White Collar
Genre: F/M, Food Kink, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White Collar drabbles, featuring crossovers with Leverage and SPN.  Originally posted at fivesentencesmut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Anonymous asked: Neal/Peter, body paint_

“You’ve got a little—”  Peter pointed toward Neal’s cheek, and Neal tried to wipe away the paint.  “No, well, just… let me,” Peter said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping away the smear of red.

They stood motionless next to Neal’s easel, a half-finished copy of a Picasso staring at them as neither breathed; Peter’s thumb stroked across Neal’s cheekbone unnecessarily, and the air crackled with the moment.

Neal raised his brush and left a streak of color across Peter’s jawline.

“Oh, you _didn’t_ ,” Peter cautioned, catching Neal’s wrist with a smile, pulling him closer until their bodies met.

Neal smiled broadly, saying, “I was just marking where I thought I’d start.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Anonymous asked: Caffrey, playing with dildo he found in Burke’s desk_

Neal scribbled a note to Peter and left it in the drawer in place of what he found there; a little sleight of hand was all it took to tuck the surprisingly substantial dildo into his suit coat. The lube and condoms with it on top of Neal’s case file were left behind, but Neal secreted away the heat of their meaning as he hailed a cab to his apartment; Mozzie got a text, warning him away for the rest of the night.

Neal barely made it up the stairs fully clothed; he’d already loosened his tie and was breathing heavy with the thought of fucking himself on Peter’s dildo, the one that all signs were pointing to Peter owning for times when he thought of Neal. Neal uncharacteristically fumbled at his bedside drawer for lube and condoms, throwing them on the bed and his clothes on the floor. He slid down onto it with a groan, one hand at its base and the other on his erection, and imagined Peter under him, eyes crinkling and hands strong on Neal’s hips.

“Peter,” he whispered as he came, ropes of come looping across the bed and his hand, when his apartment door opened. Peter had answered Neal’s note.


	3. Chapter 3

_Anonymous asked: Peter/Neal/Elizabeth, middle Neal, possessive Peter and Elizabeth “Ours"_

El pulled Neal on top of her, wrapping her hand around his cock and guiding him into her; she ran her nails up Neal’s back, threatening gently the prospect of marking his skin like she had before, at a time when jealousy ruled this thing between the three of them.  

“Peter, hon?  It’s time to get our boy ready,” she said, never looking away from Neal’s eyes, shifting her hips slowly to slide Neal’s cock in deeper and out again, just enough to keep him climbing slowly toward the edge of pleasure.  

Peter kissed slowly down Neal’s spine before sliding a wet finger inside of him; Neal exhaled hot and fast against El’s neck, collapsing there as they fucked him, now a little faster, a little deeper.  Peter’s cock pressed against Neal’s hole, stretching him as Elizabeth’s wetness surrounded his dick, and he couldn’t help his back arching with pleasure.

“Work for it,” Peter growled, tilting Neal’s head back and taking a kiss, then turning him and giving his mouth to El.  He rocked on his knees — fucking into El’s pussy, fucking onto Peter’s dick, the pleasure of it making him want to give them more and more — until he felt Peter’s fingers dig into his hips and El’s wrap around the back of his neck, the pace quickening as the sound of skin slapping filled their bedroom.

Over his shoulder, El tongued into Peter’s mouth before they whispered “ours” against Neal’s neck.


	4. Chapter 4

_Anonymous asked: Neal/Peter/Elizabeth, Neal likes topping from the bottom._

El had taken her usual place in the wingback chair in the corner of their bedroom, leg curved over the armrest, stockings hugging her thighs and fingers moving slowly.  He’d watched her so many times like this, looking for the things that made her eyes shine with lust, that made her press harder, slip deeper inside; fortunately, she happened to love watching Peter be told what to do, and Neal liked being the one in charge.    
  
“Harder,” Neal said clearly, watching El’s finger slip into her pussy in time with the slap of Peter’s skin against Neal’s.  “That’s good, but you can do better.”  
  
Neal knew that Peter would never be able to resist that challenge, and he pounded faster, deeper, until Neal had to grit his teeth and fist his hands into the bedspread; Peter’s fingers dug into Neal’s hips as they watched El’s body tense.  
  
“Don’t come until I tell you,” Neal growled.  He was so close, El was so close, Peter was gasping for breath, hips stuttering; when she met their eyes, coming against her fingertips, Neal let himself go, spasming under Peter’s relentless strokes.  “Ok,” he gasped, and then felt the warm splash of Peter’s orgasm across his back as they collapsed together.


	5. Chapter 5

_Anonymous asked: Peter, Neal/Elizabeth. They like teasing him, tempting him, just hinting at what could be till he can’t resist either of them._

Elizabeth absently ran a red-tipped finger down the line of her neck and gently spread the collar of her shirt wider as she read the newspaper over Peter’s shoulder; Neal couldn’t help but steal a glance at her perfect ivory skin as her breasts brushed against Peter’s shirt. Peter leaned back in his chair and his weekend-casual t-shirt rode up across his abdomen, leaving the trail of soft brown hair to disappear below the waistband of his jeans, a rough counterpoint to El’s smooth curves. El whispered something that Neal couldn’t quite make out into Peter’s ear and they both smiled at him, the soft pinks of their lips drawing his eye; Neal smiled back, unable to look away from them. They were beguiling in their casual sensuality, and all Neal could envision was the two of them draped together, nude and flushed, skin glistening.

“Neal,” Elizabeth said, gliding around the table to Neal’s chair and standing close enough for Neal to smell her delicate perfume and her warmth. “Would you mind at all helping me with something upstairs,” she smirked.  

Neal could always be seduced by a Rubens.


	6. Chapter 6

_Anonymous asked: NealxPeterxElizabeth. Neal and El have a sweet tooth and Peter always seems to get in the middle._

El had strawberries with an absolutely sinful balsamic-dark chocolate reduction and she had that glint in her eye that made Neal smirk. He slid onto the couch next to Peter, removing the paperwork from his hands and turning him to rub his shoulders.

“Neal,” Peter said; it almost sound like a whine. “Getting this work done is non-negotiable.” But he looked up and saw El’s face, complete with raised eyebrow and red, plump lips.

She ran a strawberry across Peter’s lips, just leaving a hint of the flavor mixed with the earthiness of the chocolate, before she fed it to Neal over Peter’s shoulder. The next strawberry traced her nipples before ending up in Neal’s mouth again; she dipped a finger into the sauce and Peter sucked it clean, his work forgotten as Neal licked along the shell of his ear.

Peter decided that tonight dessert was the first course.


	7. Chapter 7

_Anonymous asked: SPNxWC. Peter/Neal/Sam/Dean. It was supposed to be an interrogation, Peter and Neal knew they weren’t FBI_

“You can put those away,” Neal said, and at least Sam had the dignity to redden slightly when he put his fake badge back in his pocket.  “The only one here walking the straight and narrow is Peter.”  
  
“Hey, I’m not so—” Peter halted himself abruptly and reddened even more than Sam; he fiddled with his handcuffs while Neal beamed at him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  
  
“ _W_ _ell_ then,” Dean smirked.  “So you two are—” and he made a finger into circled fingers motion, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek; he whistled for good measure.  
  
“That’s it,” Peter growled, “hands behind your backs.  We’re taking you down.”  
  
“Ooh, kinky,” Dean and Neal said together, and all four of them gave something up during the “interrogation."


	8. Chapter 8

_Anonymous asked: Leverage/White Collar, Sophie/Neal, They’re both so smooth with their tongues while lying, it seems like a natural shift…_

Her tongue darted out between her reddened lips to touch the martini olive; she watched his reaction from under her lashes, one sculpted eyebrow high in a heated proposition. Neal slid around the quiet bar and fed her a line, a hand softly touching her thigh where the slit of her skirt gave him an intentional glimpse of her seduction; her eyebrow rose further and the corners of her mouth curled into a knowing smirk. She introduced herself with a flowery, French-sounding name that Neal immediately knew was a ruse, but this was the little game grifters played.

Upstairs, laid out on the smooth sheets of a stolen suite, he kissed the taste of champagne from her mouth; she licked his fingers and guided them to her sweet warmth. Maneuvering was their mutual talent, in bed and out; now, a quick flip put them both in their favorite position for a quick reward. The gentle scrape of her teeth; the insistent press of his tongue…


End file.
